Liquid Nitrogen
by C1nd3r5
Summary: Jack Frost is a prodigy, achieving the job of full professor at age 20. However, his carefree attitude gets on the nerves of the others, older, assistant and associate professors. But Jack is hiding a deep secret, underneath the carefree grin, one that only his doctor knows about. And this secret is just as volatile as the liquid nitrogen that he loves to play with so much.
1. Chapter 1

So, just sort of a side-story. Came up with the idea when I was working with liquid nitrogen in the lab. Hope people enjoy.

* * *

"FROST!" an outraged yell rang from the Art building, ringing through the campus to where Jack could even hear it in the Chemistry building. He just rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

It was only a couple of days until the semester began, but Jack Frost was already bored. And what better way to deal with it other than pestering the easily irritated Art professor?

It was so easy, it was almost even more boring than doing nothing.

A large man slammed open the door to his study, marching over to the desk to tower ominously over him.

"Heya, Kangaroo," he smirked at him, leaning back in his seat to prop his bare feet on the desk, "What brings you to my neck of the woods? Want to see what REAL work looks like?"

Bunnymund slammed his fists down on the desk, making the various instruments shake. Jack refused to give the older man the satisfaction of making sure none of them fell, so just kept his ice blue eyes on the other's emerald green.

"Real work, eh? As far as I can see, you don't do anything worth the college taking you on for! I guess this is what we get for taking in a kid the same age as his students. Like they could really learn anything from you."

"Ooh," Jack leaned forward, bringing his face close the furious art teacher's, "I'm shaking in my…" he took a quick glance down, "…my metaphorical boots."

Bunnymund snorted, "I'm surprised that you even know what that word means."

"Eh, I guess that the humanities are good for something, after all."

"The students are going to EAT YOU ALIVE."

"Really, even the vegetarians? The vegans?"

"Just because you're some sort of prodigy doesn't mean…"

"Oh, I think it means that exactly," Jack leaned back in his chair again, "If you intend to stay, would you mind closing the door? You're letting the heat in."

"The heat would do you good," Bunymund made no move for the door, except for a slight shiver from the chill, "Maybe it would make you into a real person or something."

"Nah, I kinda like it like this. Reality is overrated anyways."

"You're going to end up with frostbite or something."

"Oh, Bunny! It's almost like you care!"

Bunnymund just swiped Jack's feet off the desk and stomped out of the room.

"Close the door!"

It was ignored.

Jack just sat there in silence before sighing, walking over to close and lock the door.

He leaned back on the door, slid down to the floor.

So bored.

He heard a beep from his phone.

Oh right, the doctor appointment. Can't forget that.

**…**

"Shirt off, Mister Frost, you know the drill."

Sighing, Jack did as he was told. He flinched slightly as the cold metal of the stethoscope brushed against his back.

"How rude. I did extra work to make sure this was cold enough for you."

"It's about 200 degrees outside! Therefore, a bit of a shock."

"More like 90. So I'm guessing no luck so far?"

Jack tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"None. How's Emily?"

"Excited. She's in college now after all. Same school as you. And she's already managed to get control of a hip hop class at the rec center."

"I guess I'll have to check it out, then."

A sigh, "Enough small talk, Jack. You don't have much time left."

"No duh, Doctor Obvious," Jack flinched as the doctor lightly placed a tourniquet his arm, "Do we really have to stick me again?"

"Sorry."

"No you're not. In fact, Doc, I don't think you have it in you to be sorry. Your heart's pitch black, isn't it?"

"I do wish you'd stop using that joke."

"No way, Kozmo!" Jack grinned cheerfully at him as his arm was swabbed down, "It's not old yet."

"To me, it's turned into vinegar," Doctor Pithnier frowned as he slid the needle into the crook of Jack's elbow. The boy managed not to flinch, but it was a struggle.

"I hate this part," Jack refused to look anywhere near the vial of his own blood.

"No one does."

"Why do I need these anyways? We all know that I'm going to die soon anyways, right?"

"I thought I was supposed to be the pessimistic one."

"Not pessimism. Simple fact."

"It's not hopeless. Not yet."

Jack suddenly let out a loud laugh, "I feel like this situation is backwards. Forgive me, I keep forgetting that I just have to keep trying."

"If I were to let you give up, I'm afraid an evil mob would hunt down this Bogeyman."

"Aw, you're not still upset about what I called you when I was five, are you?"

"Your ceaseless screaming certainly didn't help my reputation."

"Eh, I thought you got over that!"

"Be serious Jack," Pitch was suddenly right there, looking him directly in the eye, "Do you want to try another surgery? Maybe this time…"

"I can't," the mirth vanished from Jack's face, "I've got a class to teach."

"You just need a few days over the weekend to bounce back. It's best to have it done sooner rather than later."

Jack sighed, but nodded, "Fine. Next weekend."

**…**

Jack felt the corners of his lips twitching in glee, so he turned his back to the students still trickling in to hide it.

Oh, he definitely had plans to make a big impression for the first class. Oh, all of the naïve little general chemistry students. Most of them wouldn't even continue on to obtain a major in his field. Probably at least half were biology students (in fact, he could see Emily Jane in the audience, laughing with her newfound friends, yet somehow still appearing completely serene). Another good chunk were from the…_humanities_, just taking this to fulfill some requirement or other, not because they were interested in the beauty of chemistry.

That, and the fact that none of them had any clue just how old he was. None of them had seen his face as of yet, and his white hair was sure to make them think he was much older. He guessed that was one benefit of his sudden lack of melanin production. It had so many possibilities for fun.

He eyed the large dewar of liquid nitrogen on the lecture desk. The only thing that made him sad was that only a few people (i.e. the front row) would be able to really see his little…trick.

Oh well. Perhaps this would teach people a lesson about occupying the back row in order to goof off.

"Welcome class!" he spoke out, feeling the microphone on his hoodie magnify his voice to fill the hall. Immediately all eyes were on him…and all were puzzled as they took in his young face, "I am Professor Frost. You will address me as such. And this is General Chemistry. If you are not supposed to be here, get out now."

A few people in the back slunk out at that, and Jack fought back a derisive snort. It was sad really, how people seemed unable to find their class at times. The numbers were on the door after all.

"Now, to start off, we're going to play a little game," he let the mischievous grin cross his face, and watched the people in the front row move uneasily. Ah, they still hadn't accepted him as the professor, not really.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bunnymund at the door, watching.

Waiting for him to screw this up.

Jack pressed his lips together. That overgrown rabbit would be proven wrong.

He vaulted up onto his desk, wiggling his bare toes as he glanced around the hall.

His eyes settled on one of the girls in the front of the row, her face a mask of confusion, "Is something wrong, miss…"

"Katherine," she spoke up, "Where's the REAL Professor Frost?"

"You're looking at him," he stretched his arms over his head, "Yeah, I look pretty young, don't I? Would you believe Fountain of Youth?"

"No…"

"Smart girl. But the fact remains that I AM Professor Frost, Miss Katherine. And you would do well to remember that," he directed his attention to the whole class, "As would all of you. I am not your friend, I am not your 'buddy'. I am your professor, your grades are in my hands."

All was quiet, "Now, who wants to see a little trick?"

Nothing.

"Oh come on, you're all too shy!" he plopped the dewar onto the desk next to him, "Miss Katherine, please come up to the front. I know that you're not overly shy, at least!"

Stiffly, she got to her feet, and walked over to the desk.

He whipped off the Styrofoam lid, allowing the gas to start flowing out, flowing everywhere.

"Do you know what this is, Miss Katherine?"

"Liquid nitrogen?"

"Very good," he nodded sagely, "Someone that's not Miss Katherine, what does liquid nitrogen do to objects…you?"

He pointed to someone midway up, who looked startled at being called upon.

"…it freezes stuff?"

"Well…that's one way of putting it," his lips bent down in a frown at the thoroughly inelegant phrasing, "So what does it do to human flesh?" he pointed at random to another person.

"Gives you frostbite!" they were happy to yell out, looking proudly at their friends, "Makes your body part fall off!"

"Oh really? Are you sure?"

"Of course! Everyone knows that!"

Jack smirked. All was going according to plan.

"Shall we put that to the test then? Katherine, do you agree that the liquid nitrogen is up to the top of the dewar?"

You could practically here crickets chirping. She peered in, "It is…"

"So there's no way for my hand to avoid it if I put it in?"

"…no…"

The whispers were starting as what he was saying started to sink in.

"Excellent," it looked like it was finally sinking in, just what he was planning to do, "So if I stick my hand in…"

And to the shock of everyone, he plunged his hand in, leaving it in for a few seconds before yanking it back out.

"Don't try this at home, kids," he smirked at them, flexing his hand to show that it was quite all right, "I'm a trained professional." He looked around the room, taking in the aghast faces. He especially took pleasure in seeing the horrified face Bunnymund had.

"But…your hand should be frozen!" Katherine exclaimed, staring with huge eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "Should it now?" He cupped his hand and splashed a bit at her, laughing slightly at her squeal as the volatile fluid hit her and immediately evaporated. Then he took the whole dewar and dumped it on the floor, watching the entire first row immediately snatch up their feet as it rolled toward them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience," he rose to his feet, standing on his lecture desk as he bowed, "Now onto business."

* * *

Just to be clear, it IS possible to put your hand in liquid nitrogen without it freezing off. My professor's done in, much to my shock. He's even splashed a bit at us. I'll leave the research part up to you, just how this is possible. It's really quite cool to watch~!

If I get good feedback, I'll consider continuing this story, so please review!


	2. Chapter 2

I am SO happy to see all of the great feedback for this story! I really hope everyone continues to enjoy it, and please review! I am a Chem major, and therefore can more easily take time out of my busy schedule to write if I know people are enjoying it!

So, since there's such a positive response, here's another chapter! Hope I don't disappoint everyone!

* * *

"Fake hand?"

Jack started, head shooting up as his blue eyes searched for the source of the voice before finally alighting on Professor Bunnymund.

Or rather..._Assistant_ Professor Bunnymund. It really rankled the old geezer that Jack was probably a decade younger, and yet held a much higher title.

"You wish," Jack grinned wryly at him, lifting up the hand in question to show him, "My little trick wouldn't have worked so well if it was."

"And why is that?"

Jack tilted his head to the side, looking at the older man with innocent eyes, "I'll tell you the same thing I told my students. They have to look it up for their own. Google is a marvelous thing," he then sighed, shrugging his shoulders, "I doubt many of them will, though. Too bad, it's going on the test."

"What?"

"Is there a problem with that?" a white eyebrow quirked.

"You can't put something on a test that you didn't cover in class!"

"I did cover it, though. I even told them to look it up," Jack shrugged again, "It's not my problem if they'd rather dwell in ignorance than enlightenment."

"It's your job as professor to tell them what they need to know to prepare for the exams."

"I did tell them. They have to learn that not everything will just be given to them on a silver platter. Otherwise, they're in for a rude awakening next semester. Now, please leave."

"Please?" Bunnymund looked confused at the polite word.

Jack just sighed, trying to hide his tiredness, "I've got a lot of work to do before this weekend. I'm afraid I don't have time to play games with you, Kangaroo."

The nickname had the desired effect, as an angry expression appeared on the Australian's face, causing him to glare at Jack before storming out.

Deliberately leaving the door open.

As usual.

Jack sighed again as the heat made him feel sluggish. If this was to become a habit, he needed to find a way to close the door without getting up. He could barely think like this.

But as he closed the door, and returned to his desk to finish working on the first homework, his mind drifted to his upcoming procedure.

Now that would definitely not be fun.

His head hurt just thinking about it.

* * *

"Are you alright, Aster?" Tooth asked as her friend grabbed another beer. The Art professor glanced over at the Assistant Professor for International Relations studies wearily.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Sandy tapped his shoulder, hands flying through various signals, all amounting to telling him that the Associate Professor for Creative Writing was worried about him.

"I said I'm fine, Sandy, just another year of dealing with those blimey ankle-biters."

"I think they're delightful!" the only full professor in their group, Nick, boomed (the only way he could really communicate), "So many minds so eager to learn!"

"Have you shown them your tattoos yet?" Tooth asked eagerly.

"Nyet," the professor for History in Russia shook his head, a twinkle in his eye, "I think I will wait for first test, da?"

"I don't know how much will scare them after Frost's class," Aster scoffed, "Unless you can beat sticking your bare hand in liquid nitrogen?"

The others' eyes grew wide, "He DID that?"

Aster just nodded, "Craziest thing I ever saw."

"Wow," Toothiana whispered.

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Refused to say. Told me to just look it up."

"And did you?"

"No."

She smacked him on the back of the head, "Aster!"

"What?" he yelled back, his hand rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"Why didn't you look it up?"

"Why did I have to?"

"CURIOSITY!"

"CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT, SHEILA!"

Then Sandy and North were separating the two, ushering them to their seats. While it wasn't uncommon for voices to be loud in these little parties, Tooth rarely argued with anyone.

Maybe she had drunk a little more than they had thought.

"Alright now," Sandy signed, "What is this REALLY about, Tooth?"

She sighed, slumping in the chair, "I just thought that it might be a good way to reach out to him. The kid just seems lonely, y'know?"

Aster snorted, "Lonely? The kid prefers it like that. Too frigid by far."

"Aster," North chided, "Let Toothiana finish."

She smiled at the Russian in thanks, "My point is, we haven't exactly been that welcoming to him since he got here. He's a young adult, and he doesn't exactly have his usual peers around him. I think WE should be the ones to reach out, rather than waiting for him to approach us."

North applauded at that, "An excellent idea, Tooth!"

Sandy nodded in agreement, two thumbs up.

Aster rolled his eyes, "I thoroughly reserve the right to tell ya that I told you so when this bites you in the rear."

North clapped him "lightly" on the back (light enough to fell a small tree), "Come now, comrade! Don't be such a downer!"

The Australian just muttered indistinguishable words into his beer as the others plotted how to get the new guy to join in the group.

And no one listened to Aster's murmurs of how it would all be a waste of time.

Then again, no one ever did.

* * *

Jack stared into the light as he felt the pinprick on his arm. How many times had this happened? Five? Ten? A hundred? A thousand?

It's not like it hurt. Not anymore, at least. Uncomfortable, yes.

Painful...not anymore. Just unimportant. Especially as the anesthetic raced through his veins.

"Jack, can you hear me?" he struggled to focus wearily on the greyish face above him, "I need you to relax. Let yourself go under."

Giving up control like this just kept getting harder and harder. When so much had been taken away from him, it was the little things that he clung to.

But he closed his eyes, willing himself to let go, to do as Doctor Pitchiner said.

He was just...so tired.

* * *

To say that Aster was surprised would be putting it lightly. He had been walking home from another evening with the Guardians (as they called themselves), an evening full of ways to break past Jack's shell.

Ignoring the fact that the kid probably didn't WANT his shell to be broken.

As it so happened, Frost's house was on the way to his own.

And also, as it so happened, Aster walked across the front yard, just as HE came walking out, locking the door behind him.

Doctor Kozmotis Pitchiner.

How many years had it been now? They had gone to school together. All of the Guardians had.

Pitchiner had too.

That slimy, sneaky...

And then Kozmo caught sight of him too, freezing, half in the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" the Australian growled, clenching a fist. What he wouldn't give just to sock that guy right in the gut.

Well, why couldn't he? Pitchiner always thought he was SO much better than everyone else, just because he was a Biology major. He always had looked down at the rest of them, sneering at the "Humanities".

If he knew Frost, then that explained his attitude towards the humanities.

"Visiting a friend," that horribly smooth voice hadn't changed a bit, full of itself, "And you?"

"Walking home."

"Well then," a cordial gesture, "Do not let me keep you."

Pitchiner all-but-floated down the stairs, pausing just barely in front of Aster as he reached into his pocket for his key.

"Are you certain you can make it?" Pitchiner kept talking in that smooth voice, "From your appearance, you appear quite inebriated..."

Just one punch, what harm could it do?

But in the second the Australian swung at him, the Brit was ducking out of the way, sliding into his vehicle with ease.

He rolled down the window, just slightly, "I was going to offer you a ride for old time's sake...but now I do not think I will. Good day, Mr. Bunnymund."

And he drove off.

Aster glanced at Frost's house, hesitating.

If Pitchiner was in there, was Professor Frost alright?

He snorted.

It wasn't like he cared.

* * *

A rapping.

A tapping.

A rapping at his front door.

Only vaguely aware.

Jack felt himself pulled out of sleep.

Reluctantly.

Struggling.

He rolled off his bed where Pitch must've put him.

Rubbing his eyes from sleep.

He stretched out the kinks in his back.

How long had he slept?

Not near long enough.

He dragged his feet along the ground as he moved.

Feeling around for anything that might attempt to trip him up.

He leaned heavily on the front door.

The relentless pattern of knocking and ringing of the doorbell only intensified at the thud.

Jack pulled himself up to his full height to peer through the peephole.

What he saw there confused him.

Keeping the chain latch on the door, he opened it slightly.

"Kangaroo?" he was barely able to speak above a whisper.

"What took ya?" his voice was too loud, "I've been knocking for ages!"

Jack flinched back from the loud noise, before steeling himself to continue.

"Why are you here?"

At this, the older professor looked a little sheepish.

"I saw a suspicious figure..."

"And you thought you'd check on me?" somehow he felt a smirk cross his face as a teasing lilt trickled into his voice, "Oh, Bunny, isn't that just the nicest thing..."

"Open the door, Frost."

Jack frowned.

"No."

"Why not?"

Jack quickly thought up an excuse.

"Too hot out here."

"You're losing your frigid air just by cracking the door open. I just want to make sure you're alright. Just getting used to you. Don't want to replace you so fast."

He couldn't let him in here. The secret would be out.

Not much point in keeping a secret if he died.

No, stop the morbid thoughts.

Think of an excuse.

"It's past my bedtime. I'm in my PJs."

Professor Bunnymund looked confused.

Jack wanted to slam his head into the door.

Stupid pain meds. Making him all loopy.

Making that sound like a good excuse.

"Frost...it's only 10. Shouldn't a kid like you be out having a good time?"

Jack forced his easy grin to come to the front.

He tousled his hair, "See this? I'm old at heart, Bunny."

"If you're old, then I think I might be pushing up the daisies."

"Glad to see you admit it. Now, good night..."

The Australian's foot kept him from closing the door, "Not so fast."

Jack groaned. He just wanted to go to bed.

Nausea was beginning to stir in the pit of his stomach.

He needed to get rid of the guy before he threw up.

"Frost...you don't look so good?" the Australian's words slurred.

Drunk?

Relatively early to be drunk, wasn't it?

The professor was an old man after all, wasn't he?

"Yeah, really tired Bunny. Busy writing out that test."

"It's only been the first week."

"I like to be prepared."

"That cold stuff you work with?"

The grin was growing strained.

He needed to get rid of him.

Quickly.

"You gotta be more specific. But since I'm tired, I'll give it to you. Liquid nitrogen?"

"Yeah...how'd you do it?"

"I told you to look it up."

"Tooth got angry at me."

Jack wanted to sigh. He wanted to scream.

He just wanted to be alone.

"What's the answer, Frost?"

He couldn't take it anymore. His arm shot out through the small crack in the door, shoving the unsteady Bunnymund back.

And slammed the door.

He slotted the door locked in the same smooth movement.

He couldn't move away from the door fast enough.

Couldn't make it to the bathroom.

Couldn't do anything but rock heavily back against the door.

His hands went to his knees.

And retched.

Fluid came up. Just fluid.

He hadn't eaten that day.

In preparation for the procedure.

Just dark fluid.

All over his floor.

Dark red fluid.


	3. Chapter 3

Why is it that the stories that I start on a lark, with no intention of going anywhere, are the ones that are popular, and the ones that I actually put a lot of time into thinking about before beginning aren't?

Oh well.

Happy points to whoever can guess the two students at the beginning of the chapter are! (Hint, they aren't from RoTG)

* * *

"Mr. Wayne, Miss Brown, glad that you two could make it," Jack didn't even turn his head from the board as the two attempted to sneak into class. Late. Having an eidetic memory was quite useful at times.

They both halted in their progress, turning to face him, their faces red with embarrassment.

"Sorry, Professor," the blonde girl spoke up as the boy attempted to fade into the shadows, "We had to finish cleaning up for Professor Bunnymund..."

Jack just waved his hand at them, wanting them to get back to their seats so he could resume his lecture.

But he was on autopilot now, smoothly explaining the basics of stoichiometry. This couldn't be allowed. While he doubted Bunnymund even knew where these students were coming after his class, the fact remained that they were late. The question was whether to speak up, or to hope that this was just a one-time thing.

He suppressed a flinch as a pang shot through his head.

The headaches were getting worse and worse all the time. And it had only been a couple of days since the surgery.

Focus, Jack. Get through this lesson.

And then, a small smirk crossed his face, he could go annoy a bunny-rabbit.

Jack gave himself a second to plaster back on his sprite-like grin before turning back to the class, and continuing the lecture like his head wasn't screaming in pain.

And like the heat of the room wasn't suffocating him.

* * *

"Hey, what's new, Kangaroo?"

Aster rolled his eyes as he turned to see (surprise!) Jack Frost. Of course.

"I'm surprised you made it past the entrance way without bursting into flames."

Jack pouted at that, and quoted, "I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice, is also great."

"Robert Frost," Aster scoffed at that, "Relative of yours?"

A wry smile crossed Jack's face, "Nothing of the sort. But as much as I love swapping quotes with you, Bunny, that's not the reason I'm here."

"Enlighten me," the Australian rolled his neck, cracking the vertebrae slightly as he did so, working out the kinks. He couldn't help but take a bit of pleasure in the disgusted look on Jack's face, but then the boy wonder moved on.

"I'm gonna have to ask you to make sure you finish class on time. Can't have my students coming in late all the time."

That got his attention.

"Excuse me?" the Aussie raised himself to his full height, an unconscious gesture meant to intimidate. But Jack just casually slid onto one of the work desks, holding his staff in both hands. A relaxed grip, but slightly defensive, ready if necessary.

"I think you heard me, Bunny. Or are those long ears of yours just for show?"

Jack couldn't really bring himself to care all that much about whether or not he was possibly offending the other man. He was in pain, he was tired, and he just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

"Watch it, mate."

"Hey, just telling it like it is. I cover a lot material in a very short period of time, immediately when class begins. I need all of my students in their seats, and I know full well that it takes 1.256738592 minutes to make it to my classroom at a brisk walk, and 3.956783 minutes to make it to my classroom at a leisurely stroll," he watched with satisfaction as the Kangaroo's eyes spun at the numbers. Both made up, of course. What purpose did HE have in knowing the precise time it took? But Bunnymund didn't need to know that.

"It's not my fault that people don't go to your class."

"Hey. People attend my class."

"But none of them like it, do they?"

Now that hurt. Though Jack did his best not to show it.

"Just let them out on time," Jack used his staff to propel him off the desk, and continued the momentum out of the classroom.

He slammed the door on the angry words.

Jack needed to lie down.

Desperately.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to be, as Jack ran straight into a large man in a bright red jacket and a white beard.

The collision nearly knocked him to the ground, and the only thing that stopped it from happening was a sudden iron grip on his upper arm, pulling terribly at the spot where the IV of the weekend had left a massive bruise.

Jack flinched, quickly using his staff to stabilize his stance.

"Ah, Jack Frost, da?"

And then he was caught in a bonecrushing hug.

What was going on?

"Excuse me," he muttered, adjusting his staff and trying to get free, "I have to..."

"Nonsense, Jack!" the man boomed. He quite literally boomed, "I have been wanting to meet you for some time! Sandy! Tooth! He's here!"

The large man finally released him, and he jerked back, unsteady on his feet. He saw two people approach, one a short man with spiky blond hair, and the other a dainty woman with multi-colored hair and violet eyes.

"Oh, you found him, Nick!" the woman exclaimed, "I was beginning to worry we'd have to hunt you down!" much to Jack's uneasiness, she snapped on a pair of latex gloves as she approached him, "Now, let me see those teeth!"

Her fingers were in his mouth.

Her FINGERS were in his MOUTH.

WHY were her FINGERS in his MOUTH?

"Gargh!" he yelled, jumping back and away from the crazy woman. He wiped furiously at his lips as he steadied himself once again on his staff, "Look, I don't even know you!"

At that, the blond began to shake his head, shaking a finger at the much larger man in red.

"Ah, sorry, Sandy! It slipped my mind! I am Nicholas St. North, Professor of Russian History. And these are my colleagues, Toothiana Molar, Assistant Professor of International Relations, and Sanderson Mansnoozie, Associate Professor of Creative Writing."

The short one, Mansnoozie, Jack thought St. North had said, pulled out a board and scrawled quickly on it.

Nice to meet you.

"Well..." Jack smiled sheepishly, "As you already know who I am, I'm sorry to say that I really must go..."

Bed, here he comes!

"Nonsense!" St. North laughed his booming laugh, "Surely you have the time to eat with us!"

* * *

How did this happen?

Jack was sure that he had insisted that dinner was a bad idea.

And yet here they were, inside one of the university's numerous delis. The others all had a beer in front of them (well, except for St. North, who seemed to be living up to the stereotype by somehow managing to order vodka), and Jack was feeling extremely awkward, tired, annoyed, and in PAIN.

But he kept a slight smile on his face. It didn't say that he was HAPPY to be here, but it wasn't quite as HOSTILE as what he was really feeling.

"So, what is this about now?"

Bunnymund rolled his eyes as he took a swig, "These blighters got it into their heads that they wanted to meet you. Don't ask me why."

Jack smirked, leaning forward slightly, "Why?"

"Tt!"

"You're new," Molar was swaying slightly on her stool as her salad arrived, "We were curious."

"An' I told ya, he's not that interesting!" Bunnymund groaned as he also received his salad.

Mansnoozie snorted slightly, shaking his head at Bunnymund as he snatched the french fries from St. North's plate, who seemed happy to let him have it, tearing into his hamburger with gusto.

"Aster, my friend," the Russian mumbled through his food, "Your idea of interesting is off. And you!" he pointed a ketchup-stained finger (which, to Jack's already queasy stomach, appeared too much like blood), "You are too skinny! Why are you not eating?"

"I'm not hungry."

Lie.

"But, it's dinner time!" the booming continued.

"I'm really not hungry."

Lie.

"I had a big lunch."

Lie.

"Not to mention it was rather late.

Lie.

He was hungry. He was starving.

But the smell was turning his stomach.

He'd be sick if even so much as a french fry slid down his throat.

It was bad enough just being in the room.

"Bah, nonsense!" was that his favorite word or something? "You are growing boy, Jack! Growing boys are always hungry! Come now, my treat!"

His smile was growing more and more strained, "Really, I can't. I'm stuffed solid."

Lie.

"Come on, ankle-biter, just eat something to shut him up," Bunnymund groaned as he signaled for another beer (was it his third?).

"I really can't, Kangaroo," some of the bitterness slipped into his tone, but it went unnoticed amongst the bustle of the deli.

Mansnoozie waved a french fry in his face, chastising him slightly. Hastily, Jack tried to subtly hold his breath, but it was too late.

It's funny how normally french fries smelled exquisite to him, but suddenly it was all too much. The smell was overpowering, the odor of the people around him, the smell of the food; the heat was extreme; the noise was painful.

Jack shoved himself away from the table, and ran. He shoved through the people, trying to ignore the slight blackness edging in on his vision.

Even making it outside was no relief, as the air was stifling and hot.

And so he continued to run.

He ran until he made it home, slamming the door behind him, taking only a second to slide the deadbolt in place before he was off again, sprinting to the bathroom only to slide to his knees.

Dry heaves rocked his body, searching desperately for something to vacate from his body.

But there was nothing. Nothing to relieve him.

He fumbled for his phone, typing in the digits that he sadly knew by heart.

* * *

Jack woke up to a cold hand on his forehead.

He moaned slightly, relishing the feel.

"Do you like that, then? I had it made specially for you."

"Pitch," he groaned, opening his eyes, only to start.

It appeared as though Pitchiner was holding a disembodied blue hand. Closer inspection revealed that it was plastic, likely some sort of cooler-device.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"Now, now," Kozmotis tutted, "Would a jerk come all the way out here to take care of you?"

"I wouldn't say that it was impossible."

This called Pitch to laugh, laugh his odd, chilling laugh. But Jack had always enjoyed things that made him chilled.

"Oh, Jack. You are certainly my favorite patient."

"Glad I can amuse."

Pitchiner's face suddenly grew serious, "So, it was the Guardians?"

"Who?"

"It's the nickname for their little group. I knew them when I was in college."

"You mean in the Dark Ages? Wow,t the kangaroo is older than I thought!"

This comment earned him a slight cuff to the head.

"Behave yourself," but there was affection in his reprimand, "Jack, as much as I loathe to admit it, they're good people. If you tell them you don't want to be around them, I'm sure they'd understand."

Jack remembered St. North's persistence, and smiled wryly, "Somehow I doubt that."

"Ah, perhaps you have a point. They never liked me much, so it never took much on my part to get them to leave me be."

"i doubt they'd care for me either, if they knew me. I'm just a curiosity to them."

"You're a curiosity to everyone, Jack," dark eyes peered into pale blue, "Where ARE you, anyways?"

Jack decided to answer the literal question instead of the metaphorical one intended, "You're losing your vision, old man. I'm right in front of you."

"Sure you are, Jackie-boy, sure you are."

* * *

"Care to explain why you bolted so suddenly?"

Jack nearly groaned. Kozmotis had given him something for the nausea, but the headaches just got worse. And with the headaches so bad, he felt sick to his stomach again.

And worse of all, he seemed to have misplaced his staff. He had stumbled his way to work today, the only spot of light in his day was that there were no classes.

No, it was just his office hours.

Theoretically, he could cancel, but that would be admitting he had a problem; not to mention, it would make it easier for him to miss more days.

And his tests were coming up.

"What do you want, Kangaroo?"

He refused to look up from his lesson plan.

"Answers."

"I remembered something I had to do."

"And you couldn't have said something last night? Before you rudely bolted?"

"My apologies, but it was an urgent matter that couldn't wait for anything."

"Even for your stick thing?"

What?

Jack's head shot up to see his staff in the Australian's hand.

The older man smirked at the reaction, "Ah, forgot about this, huh?"

"Please give it back."

Too eager.

Too eager by far.

Jack recognized the glint in the other man's eyes, the glint of a man who decided he wanted to be mischievous. Who decided he wanted to make someone's life harder.

And normally, Jack would be alright with that. A prank war would be fun. And it would be nice to see something besides disgust in the Australian's eyes when he looked at him.

Jack would be alright with all of that, if it wasn't for what Bunnymund was currently holding in his hand.

"Oh, you want this?"

"Please," he tried to sound nonchalant, "Return my staff."

Unsteadily, he got to his feet, stabilizing himself with his desk.

"You're gonna have to do better that," Bunnymund leaned back against the door, "You alright, there, Frostbite? Hangover?"

Jack didn't bother to correct him. It was easier that way.

He switched his next point of contact to the chair set up for students.

"Just give it back."

"Oh? What happened to the please?"

"Give it back," he had finally made it to standing in front of the overgrown rabbit, feeling glad that he had concealed the dark blue circles under his eyes today. They were so dark as to beg question.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna keep it a while," incredibly, he laughed at the stricken look on Jack's face, "Who knows. Perhaps it would make good firewood."

He was gone before Jack could lunge at him, leaving the young man to crash into the floor.

Hard.

The world spun around him.

Pitchiner was wrong.

The Guardians were not nice.

Not at all.

At least one Assistant Professor E. Aster Bunnymund was not.

He lay there for a little while longer, gathering his strength to climb back to his feet.

This was taking longer and longer lately.

To be quite honest. It scared him.

* * *

Sandy came to visit him at exactly 3:00. Sandy had his routines, and visited the others in their offices at specific times each day.

So, Aster was easily expecting him.

"Hey, Sandman!"

The blond rolled his eyes, and flapped his hands on top of his head like they were big ears, pointing at the Australian.

"Hey, keep that quiet. Don't want Frost knowing that. He's got enough ammunition."

Sandy gave an exaggerated shiver.

"Yeah. Chilly, isn't he?"

Sandy nodded, but his eyes wandered about the room, before suddenly falling on the staff.

He pointed to it, questioningly, and then pulled out his whiteboard.

I thought you returned it?

Aster snorted, "The ankle-biter was being a pain, so I decided to keep it a while longer."

It was weird how attached he was to it. The guy almost seemed as though he was in pain when he realized that the older professor wasn't going to give it back.

Sandy looked skeptical.

"Hey, calm down, buddy! I'll take good care of it!"

Sandy shook a finger at him as though to say that he'd better.

The Australian sighed.

"Look, I'll put it back here," Aster stuck it behind the door, where no one could get to it without knowing it was there, since in the day, his door was always open, "See, safe and sound."

Sandy still seemed skeptical.

"What, you doubt me?"

"HULLO, COMRADES!" the booming voice echoed the room, and the door slammed hard into the wall...and the staff...with a loud crack.

"..."

* * *

And there goes another cliffhanger. I swear I don't do this on purpose. It just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so this chapter has the scene that first gave me the idea to write this fic, so I hope everyone likes it as much as me!

Also, it's been a while since I was TAUGHT the initial concepts, not to mention I just finished learning physical chemistry, so currently I'm actually more familiar with WHY things are then just the fact that they ARE a certain way, so please bear with the lackluster explanation.

Enjoy!~

* * *

"Um...Professor Frost?"

Jack spun around in his chair, giving a bright smile, "Hello, Mr. Bennett. How can I help you?"

Jaime Bennett had to be one of his favorite students. The kid was always on time, sitting in the front of the class, with intelligent questions and always seemed to be paying attention. If it wasn't for the fact that Jack was his professor, Frost had a feeling that they'd be good friends.

This kid was one of the few students in his class who actually appeared interested in continuing along the path for a Chemistry major.

"Um...I have a question about what we talked about in class today...about the ideal gas law?"

"What about it? You seemed to have a good handle on it at the time."

"Well, I understand the concept...but how do we know?"

"Well, observation, and solving equations, mostly."

"What equations?"

"Hey, slow down, slow down! Don't make life hard on yourself. You don't need to know yet."

"I don't?"

"Nope. You don't have to know until you take Physical Chemistry. There are enough concepts for you to understand right now without adding in others."

"But how can I understand why it works if I don't know HOW it works?"

"You'll just have to trust me that it's the case for now. Are you telling me to stop believing in the moon when the sun comes up?"

"No."

"Well, do you stop believing in the sun when the clouds block it out?"

Jamie laughed a bit at that one, "No."

"It's still true, whether you know how it works or not. In fact, it's MUCH more important that you know that it works then how it works for now. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah," Jamie nodded, before looking startled, "I mean, yes, Professor."

Jack wanted to tell the other boy that it was fine, that he didn't have to be so formal, but he stilled his tongue. Respect was good.

They could be friends when Jack wasn't his professor anymore.

If he, you know, lived that long.

"Any other questions, Jamie?"

"No, I think I'm good, Professor Frost."

The brunet boy got to his feet and left the office, waving cheerily as he went.

And Jack went back to slouching in his chair, spinning around so that his back faced the door once again.

The carefree smirk fell off his face.

Ow.

He tried to distract himself by pulling out the large dewar of liquid nitrogen, wrapping his hands around it, relishing the chill.

Jamie was his favorite student, but his least favorite as well.

Why did he remind him so much of...her?

His fingers clenched, unconsciously, and he forced himself to stop.

Stop thinking.

Thinking equals stress.

And stress just makes everything worse.

"Um...hey, Frostbite."

And SPEAKING of STRESS...

He didn't turn.

"What do you want, Bunnymund?"

He didn't even bother to hide the exhaustion in his voice.

What was the point anyways.

It's not like he'd leave if he asked nicely.

Funny, isn't it?

The ones he wants to leave do their best to stick around.

The ones he wants to stay...well...yeah.

They couldn't wait to leave.

To leave him.

Quiet.

"I said, what do you want, ya big Kangaroo? I don't suppose you came to return what you **stole**?"

Irritation trickled in.

He finally turned around, and saw a look of...was that sorrow?...on his face.

"Jack."

The young man could feel his blood pumping in his ears, beating out a staccato.

The last time someone had said his voice like that...

No, don't think about it!

"What?" his voice whispered, chilled.

"There was a...well, something happened..."

"What?" his mouth felt dry. He didn't know why.

It's not like he had anyone left to lose.

"I'm sorry, kid..."

And he brought out two broken pieces of wood.

The two pieces that composed his staff.

Well, HAD composed his staff.

Was it even possible for his face to be paler than it was before? It felt as though the blood was draining from his face.

He rose to his feet, stiffly, as though he'd break if he moved to fast.

"Get out."

Bunnymund looked confused, "What?"

Frost looked murderous.

"Get the hell out of my office!" Jack roared at him, grabbing up the dewar.

He ripped the lid off and threw a portion of the liquid nitrogen at the floor just in front of Bunnymund's feet, causing him to retreat rapidly.

"You come near me again," Jack Frost threatened, "And this goes on your clothes, and you WILL burn. Stay the hell away from me."

Bunnymund didn't move, too startled by the reaction.

So Jack did the only thing he could think of.

He walked to the door, and slammed it in the older professor's face, sliding the lock and pulling down the shade over the little window.

Then he put his back to the solid wood, and slid down to the floor.

He slid down to where Bunnymund had dropped the pieces on the ground, and gathered them up in his hands.

Hot tears ran down his face as he pressed the ends together, as though somehow he could magic it back together.

But it's futile.

Of course it is.

"No," he whispered, "No, no, **no, **_**no, no, **__**NO!**_"

But his pleas didn't work. Didn't do him any good.

It stayed broken.

Resolutely broken.

Broken just like he had been.

Broken ever since that day.

Long ago.

* * *

Jack had calmed down before he had attempted to come here.

That's not to say the signs weren't still there.

His white hair was askew, a regular rats nest.

He kept his sunglasses on to hide his eyes.

A downside of losing his melanin, besides the light hurting his eyes more now, the redness that came from crying showed up even stronger than before.

A kid came out of the office, his mom coming behind him as he ran to his dad, crying about how his daddy needed to get the flu shoot or he was going to get really sick and it would really hurt and...

Now Jack was getting waved into a room to wait for the pediatrician.

He stared at the wall.

"You don't usually drop in like this."

"I wish I could say that I don't usually see kids crying when they leave your office, but I'd be lying."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"And scaring little kids isn't low?"

Doctor Pitchiner sighed as he sat down across from the younger man. He braced his elbow on his knee and massaged his forehead.

"If it keeps them healthy, it's a small price to pay, isn't it? It's better for them to be scared of the disease instead of the thing that protects them from it. TV today, everyone's scared of a little shot. Even the adults are scared nowadays. And then the children...little blighters, they feed off their parents. I'd rather have a kid hate my frigging guts for sticking him with an itty-bitty needle than for that same kid to show up in my office weeks later, puking his guts out and sobbing for someone to take away the pain."

They sat there in silence for a bit just sitting.

"You do realize I'm a pediatrician, right? Not a therapist?"

"Yeah...sorry. Just...don't really have anyone else to talk to. And I feel like I'm going to explode unless...unless..."

"Jack," his voice was soothing, "Calm down."

"Yeah...I know."

More silence.

Pitchiner sighed, getting to his feet and pulling off his jacket, "Come on, Jack."

The boy...really, he wasn't that much more than a child...looked up at him, blue eyes confused.

"I'm done for the day. Let's go get you a smoothie. And then we can talk, alright?"

* * *

The kid looked slightly calmer sitting on his back porch, a blue raspberry smoothie in his hands, staining his mouth frostbitten blue.

"So...Bunnymund did that?"

Jack nodded as he took another slurp. So much a child.

Kozmo took a sip of his tea, thinking about what he had been told.

It didn't sound like the Guardians. As annoying as they were, the most harm they'd ever do a kid would be to give a kid too much candy and give him a cavity (though with Tooth, even that had changed with being more likely to give them diabetes and perfect teeth).

Which meant it was probably an accident.

An accident that wouldn't happen if that overgrown bunny rabbit hadn't been such a jerk.

Which meant that there was only one action for Pitchiner to take.

"Quit."

"What?"

"Quit. There's no need for you to be teaching anyways. There's no need for you to put up with this treatment," he pulled out the side that Frost had always called his "Bogeyman" persona, "Run away, Jackie-boy. Just keep running. Run away, until you finally manage to outrun your past."

"Koz-"

The doctor smiled at him, leaning across the table, "Are you calling me a liar, Jackie-boy? I'm thinking you're the liar. You go and play your little game of professor, and then cry when the other kids don't play nice. Come stay with me. I'll take care of you."

He hated having to do this. Reverse psychology...it was always something he had been morbidly good at. Especially when he got really nasty.

Just like now.

And Jack knew about his tricks...but the kid is only human.

Not to mention in a very emotional place.

So he walked right into it.

"I'm not a little kid, Kozmo! Stop treating me like one!"

"Then stop acting like one. Life's rough, it's a pain. Mistakes happen. And I've been telling you to get rid of the dumb staff for years now. It's not good for you, you understand? It's up to you to decide what you'll do from here, but make sure it's YOUR decision. You're too good of a kid for you to let yourself get bogged down by stuff you can't help. And that's what KIDS do. So if you REALLY want to prove you're not a little kid, prove it by growing up NOW!"

Silence reigned.

Finally, Jack spoke up, "So...am I the warmup for whatever conversation you plan to have with Emily Jane?"

The tension was broken, and they both laughed a bit at that, as Kozmotis sat back down, reaching for his tea once more.

"You nearly got me, old man."

"Did I?" the doctor inclined his head slightly, smirking, "Tell me, Jackie-boy, what are you going to do now?"

* * *

"So, Bunny single-handedly ruined our attempts to get to know the new guy."

"Hey, you had something to do with it to!" Bunnymund yelled at the older professor, "Who asked you to go slamming doors open like that?"

"But Bunny!" Tooth exclaimed, "If you had just returned the staff..."

"I KNOW!"

"So, what do we do now?" North seemed to ignore the other comments.

"Let him be, that's my opinion," Bunnymund rolled his eyes.

"Bunny gets no opinion," North waved his hand, ignoring the yelp of protest, "He ruined plans."

"What plans?! You were just planning on annoying the guy into friendship!"

"It was working quite well. Now we have to go to plan B!"

Emerald eyes blinked widely, "What? You are WAY too invested in this kid, North! Just leave the bloody show pony alone!"

"North," Tooth spoke up, "What IS plan B?"

"I was thinking getting some yetis to shove Frost into a sack and kidnapping him for us."

Silence. Everyone looked skeptical.

"North," the only female responded hesitantly, "You DO realize that yetis don't exist...?"

Sandy and Bunnymund smacked their heads simultaneously.

"Oh, so it's alright if we bloody KIDNAP the boy, but the YETIS are the problem?"

Sandy just sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. There were times when he seriously wondered why he was friends with these crazies.

Nick's wondrous blue eyes were just wide, "...yetis don't exist? But what about Phil?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bunnymund exclaimed, "Who's Phil?"

"My yeti friend!"

"NORTH! YETIS DON'T EXIST!"

"Shh!" the large man clapped a hand over Bunnymund's face, "Don't let them hear you say that!"

Bunnymund stayed still in his grip for a few moments, before it finally occurred to him.

Gently, he pried the hand off his face.

"North...you're drunk, aren't you?"

The white-haired man took a step back and with an easy smile, shrugged.

"NORTH!"


End file.
